Of Clocks and Curses
by wordwrighter
Summary: Hermione takes it upon herself to save a young Tom Riddle from the Anti-Amor Curse, a terrible and cruel curse Merope Gaunt inflicted on him. Romance ensues. A Tom/Hermione multi-chapter, hope you like it. Rated T just to be safe.
1. A Brief History of Curses

**Chapter 1 - A Brief History of Curses**

She woke up, gasping, on the damp canvas floor. Struggling to breathe evenly, she looked around in the half-lit darkness of dawn. The soft, and very much alive, snores of Ron and Harry calmed her somewhat as she shakily stood up and brushed herself off. She very much doubted she'd be able to sleep after her nightmare, so she made a cup of tea and sank into one of the tent's saggy armchairs, deciding to persevere with _A Brief History of Uncommon Curses_ , which had to be one of the most dry books she had ever come across.

* * *

"You look dreadful."

"Gee, thanks, Ron," she said, her mood not improved by her utter lack of quality sleep and the heavy locket pressing against her chest.

"Here, Hermione, let me take it for a bit," said Harry gently, unclasping it from her neck and repositioning it around her own. Hermione made to protest, but she really did feel better after he had taken it off. He looked at her with a concerned face. "Are you okay? You didn't sleep well, did you?"

She shook her head. "I had a nightmare." He nodded knowingly, and unable to say anything particularly comforting, pulled her into a hug.

"I'm sorry I brought you two into this. You shouldn't have to be here with me, half-starving in a freezing, damp tent in the middle of nowhere," he whispered into her hair. Hermione pulled back.

"Harry," she told him fiercely, "we both knew what we were getting into, and if you thought we'd let you do this alone, then you were very much mistaken. We're in this together, until the end, and I will not allow you to feel guilty about it." She sighed. "Let's be honest, if I were at home with my parents right now, I'd only spend my time worrying about you, and having even worse nightmares about you being captured or killed. Being here with you and Ron makes me feel like I'm doing something worthwhile, and it makes me feel like we might actually have a chance to win against You-Know-Who."

Harry's eyes expressed his gratitude as he pulled her back into the hug. Once he might have considered himself to be alone, as an orphan without siblings, but over the years Ron and Hermione had become a brother and sister to him, and he couldn't be more thankful.

Ron wandered back into the tent and scowled as he saw Harry and Hermione holding each other. His rational mind knew they loved each other as siblings, each seeking companionship and a relief from the burden of being only children, but he couldn't restrain his irrational mind from wondering if they were secretly more than that.

Hermione quickly moved away from Harry when she saw Ron's eyes narrow. She wasn't really sure how to handle Ron's irrational jealousy. The awkwardness of the situation hadn't lessened since fourth year and the Yule Ball, especially as he still hadn't actually told her about his feelings for her. She had no idea what to do to goad him into action, and although she had long harboured some feelings for Ron she wasn't sure how long they would hang around if he continued acting like this.

"Hey, Ron," she said quietly. "What did you find?" He opened his hands, displaying the meagre amounts of wild mushrooms he had managed to collect. For his sake, she tried to look enthusiastic, but the mood was notably sour. "It's okay," she said quickly, "we don't need many anyway, because we can always make more from what we've got. And I know food is an exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, but drink isn't, Dumbledore was always able to conjure some refreshments. We'll find a way to make it taste alright."

Realising neither Ron nor Harry would actually try to make dinner, she grimaced at their expectant stares and got to work, deciding to increase the quantity of mushrooms and fry them in oil she produced from the end of her wand. It wasn't the best oil, but it did the job, she reasoned. Harry somehow produced two bottles of butterbeer, and in the end the meal was considerably better than the others they had enjoyed, with even Ron holding his tongue about the mushrooms.

After dinner, they all relaxed in front of the reluctantly burning fire. Harry and Ron played a game of wizard's chess while Hermione continued reading her book.

"Pawn to E7."

"Knight to E7."

"Hey!"

"All's fair in love and war, Harry. Your turn."

"Fine, Queen to H6. Check."

"Feeble attempt, mate. Rook to H-"

"Merlin's pants."

Both heads turned towards Hermione, whose massive book had fallen to the floor with a thump and whose mouth was now hanging open.

"What?" they asked simultaneously, scrambling to her side. Hermione was in shock, but shook herself into speech.

"Look," she said shakily, pointing at the passage she had just read in _A Brief History of Uncommon Curses_. "This is the book that Dumbledore seemed to have pointed to in that children's book he left me. If you look at every seventh word he underlined, it becomes the title of this book. I didn't think it would be a coincidence, since seven is a very powerful magical number and everything Dumbledore did was deliberate so I've made myself read this book and-"

"Hermione," said Harry, "please stop. What did you read in this book that made you reference Merlin's boxers?"

"There's this curse that I just read about, and, well, here, read it yourself," she muttered weakly, pushing the book towards the boys.

 _THE ANTI-AMOR CURSE_ , it read.

 _It is unknown how long this particularly horrible curse has been existed, but its first recorded use was in 1260 by a certain Ivor Gaunt, who actually performed it on himself after the betrayal of his sweetheart, who left him for Orion Malfoy. Under the curse's influence, Gaunt went on to murder an estimated seventy Muggles in gruesome ways before being executed by the newly-established Ministry for his crimes. Although it is a very rare and largely unheard-of curse, it is more commonly used in pureblood families than anywhere else. The Anti-Amor Curse causes the victim to be unable to experience love, affection or even happiness, instead condemning the unfortunate soul to a life devoid of all emotions except hatred, anger, pride and ambition. Unlike Gaunt's case, this curse has mostly been performed on pureblood children whose parents disapprove of their love affairs, and seek to force them to be chaste, or on ex-lovers in vengeful attacks. Perhaps the cruelest effect of this curse is that it essentially forces its victim to become violent, vengeful and remorseless, and thus many victims go on to commit crimes under its influence and live the rest of their life behind bars. It is also particularly difficult to recognise a victim, since often the victim is unaware of the curse's existence, as are courts prosecuting against them. The Anti-Amor Curse is thoroughly illegal, of course, and has been since the late 18th century. Known usage of it has since dropped, though it would be naive to assume that outlawing it has driven it out completely. Interesting, though disturbing, side effects of the curse are the red eyes it gives the victim, after a certain number of years. Initially, this vibrant red colour is only seen in the eyes during fits of extreme rage, although from the onset of adolescence this becomes a lot more frequent and by maturity the red eyes are permanent._

Harry raised his eyes from the parchment and stared in shock at Hermione. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispered. Ron, who finished reading a few moments later, looked up in disbelief.

"Are you trying to tell me that it's not Voldemort's fault he's an evil and sadistic murderer? Am I supposed to buy that?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "It sounds completely unbelievable, but I dunno...it seems to fit."

"But Harry," Hermione asked, "who would do that to Tom Riddle?"

"Well," said Harry, thinking it through, "he was already pretty emotionless as a child, wasn't he? I mean I saw in the Pensieve, when Dumbledore went to visit him that first time in the orphanage...it couldn't have been Dumbledore...and the only person with magical ability to interact with Riddle before that was -"

"His mother," Hermione finished.

"Blimey," said Ron, "I always thought she wasn't right in the head."

"Why would she do that to her own son?" Hermione whispered.

"Think about it," Harry replied. "She had fallen in love with a Muggle, only to be abandoned by him and left to give birth to her baby alone."

"Yeah, well, you can't blame the guy, can you?" said Ron. "She used Amortentia, imagine if you suddenly regained consciousness and found yourself married to a hag like her!"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked. He shrugged defensively, and she sighed. "Carry on, Harry."

"Well," said Harry, slowly, "I don't think it's completely far-fetched to assume she performed the spell on her child - she might not have thought of it as a curse - so he would be protected from love and heartbreak. I dunno, it seems to make sense, especially since your book says the first guy to use it was a Gaunt. Isn't it the kind of magical knowledge that's passed down in the family?" Hermione shuddered.

"Either way, what can we do about it now? There's no way to reverse the curse, is there?" She flicked through the next few pages of the book. "No, once the victim is mature and the red eyes are permanent, the curse is irreversible," she said. "There's nothing we can do about it now, unless…"

"Unless we go back in time and convince her to have an abortion?" said Ron, hopefully. Hermione slapped him.

"Of course not, do you have any idea how dangerous it is to meddle with time as completely as that? To stop someone being born? No, the only thing I can think of is to somehow go back in time to Riddle's adolescence, and undo the curse before it becomes irreversible."

"But, Hermione," said Harry, "we have no proof that Voldemort is actually suffering from this curse, and even if we did find a way to go back and undo it, it wouldn't necessarily stop him becoming what he already is."

"I know that," she said softly, "but it's worth a try. I don't know, but after this, I kind of feel sorry for him."

"What?!" Ron exploded. "Have you gone crazy?" Harry stayed silent as Hermione shook her head.

"He is unable to feel remorse, Ron. He has no concept of love or anything like that. He doesn't fully understand the pain he inflicts, because normal emotions have been taken away from him. He never had a chance to do what's right. I vote we try to find a way to fix things."

"Seconded," said Harry, after a moment's pause. Eventually Ron, too, nodded his agreement.

"So it's decided," said Hermione. "We need to find a way to go back in time."


	2. The Department of Mysteries

**A.N.: so this chapter didn't go as far as I wanted to with the plot, but as it was getting quite long and a lot of things have happened I thought I'd post it anyway! I promise next chapter the story will really start moving, but a lot of this background information and setting is needed for it to properly make sense. I hope you enjoy! Please read and review:) wordwrighter xx**

* * *

 **Chapter Two - The Department of Mysteries**

"Hermione, wait!" Harry chased after her, fixing his eyes on the bushy brown head that was bobbing in and out of view. "Slow down!"

Without warning she stopped running and collapsed in front of a tree. He dashed to her side. "Hermione?" he asked, incredibly concerned. He knelt down in front and was shocked to find that she was still asleep. "Hermione! Wake up! Wake - aargh!" He leapt back as she screamed and clutched the front of his robes. He shook her awake. Her bloodshot eyes opened suddenly and widened as she realised that she was in the middle of the woods, in her nightgown, and Harry definitely knew about her nightmares now. She stared at the ground.

"Hermione, are you alright?" He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "Come on, let's go back to the tent." He guided her back through the snow-covered tracks to the relative safety of their temporary home, where they found Ron, worried and awake.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?" he asked her angrily. "Are you mental? You could have been snatched, or killed, you don't know who's out there!"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted quietly, "how long have you been having nightmares?" Her voice was scratchy and weak.

"Since I left my parents. I've been having these really bad dreams, seeing them dead, or you two dead, or imagining some kind of battle - it's been affecting my sleep for a while. I'm really sorry, please don't worry about it. I'll be fine." Ron looked at her in disbelief.

"Hermione," he replied fiercely, "you've been sleepwalking! Never mind Death Eaters, you could easily end up getting pneumonia, wandering around barefoot in the snow. Of course we're going to worry about this." He sighed, and his tone softened as he led her to the fire and gently placed a blanket round her shoulders. "We're your friends, Hermione, and we care about you. Next time you have a nightmare, tell us. And if they happen every night, we could always start brewing Dreamless Sleep potions, they're supposed to really help." Hermione gave him a grateful hug in reply.

Harry watched the scene from his bunk, comforted somewhat. Ron could sometimes be a douche, but there were times when he definitely made up for it. Plus, if the two of them continued as they were just now, he was confident that they'd be together by the end of the next week. He gave a small smile as he lay back down and penned an imaginary letter to Ginny. Within five minutes he was asleep.

* * *

When the sun rose the three of them started preparing for a trip to the Department of Mysteries.

"Remind me why we're doing this again," Ron grumbled.

"Because," Hermione said impatiently, "the Department of Mysteries had Time-Turners."

"Yeah," said Ron skeptically, "the key word being _had_. We know they were all destroyed in the battle against You-Know-Who in fifth year."

"That's probably not the whole truth, Ron," Harry explained. "The existence of Time-Turners has always been dangerous, because messing with time is so risky. People who were given permission to use them had to know all the laws first."

"But," Hermione continued, "as long as knowledge of their existence was widespread, there would always be people wanting to get their hands on them, people who didn't necessarily know the laws and probably didn't care. And of these people, a certain number were bound to succeed, which could have potentially caused chaos. I think that by pretending all the Time-Turners were destroyed, the Department of Mysteries did themselves a huge favour. It must have seriously reduced the number of break-ins."

"Wait," said Ron, "hold on a second. Are you saying there are still some left?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "That is exactly what I think. It is highly unlikely that every single Time-Turner was destroyed as collateral damage in the battle, and even more unlikely that the Ministry would be willing to destroy such important, useful and complicated magical objects themselves. They would, I imagine, be very reluctant to get rid of them on purpose, because Time-Turners are priceless objects. They're also really difficult to make, so if they were all destroyed I don't think anyone would ever be able to make them again. I can't see the Ministry taking that risk. My guess is that they have a handful, sitting behind some high security and guarded by the least loquacious Unspeakables available."

"Lok what?"

" _Loquacious_ , Ron. It means talkative."

"Oh. Well I guess that makes sense, but it still doesn't change that we are breaking into the most heavily guarded part of the Ministry based on a _whim_."

"Ron," said Harry, frustrated, "it's our only chance. We have no idea how else to go back in time."

"You're right, mate, but I wish we weren't doing this."

"Same, Ron, but we really have no choice."

By that evening they had drawn up a rough plan of attack. It was decided that the easiest thing to do was to make as low-key an entrance as possible. Since they could no longer all fit under the Invisibility Cloak, Hermione had the idea of using a Doubling Charm to create two copies of Harry's original. These copies would only last a few hours, but hopefully that would be enough to get them in, and out, unseen. All three would wear black robes and change their appearance slightly with minor charms, to avoid being recognised should the Cloak slip. Their black robes indicated that they were Unspeakables, which was handy as it would not only allow them to walk around the Department of Mysteries with little questioning but it would also deter suspicious Ministry officials from speaking to them.

Hermione had charmed three silver Sickles with the Protean Charm to create an effect similar to the Dumbledore's Army galleons. They had already decided that Hermione would be the one to go in furthest, since she had the most knowledge of Time-Turners and had a better idea of what they would be looking for. Ron would stand watch on the outside, and Harry a little further in. If they saw or heard anything they thought Hermione should know about, they would alert her using the coins.

Although they were all very reluctant to set foot in the Department of Mysteries again, after the events of fifth year, Hermione was confident that she knew where to go and what to do. Hopefully, they'd just be able to go in, grab a Time-Turner, and get out. Ron and Harry slept earlier and deeper than usual, happy to finally have a plan, and after downing her Dreamless Sleep potion Hermione too slept soundly.

* * *

 _Congratulations, Hermione,_ she thought wryly as she surveyed the sight in front of her. _You've made it this far. What next?_ She remembered what Professor McGonagall told her. All the Time-Turners were 'destroyed'. Yet nothing could have prepared her for what she now saw in the Time Room. The entire stock of Time-Turners seemed to be trapped in an endless loop of falling, spinning round and thus un-falling, and then falling again - as though she was watching those few seconds of the battle on repeat. It was disturbing, to say the least. She was also filled with a crushing sense of disappointment. There was no way she could use these Time-Turners. For once, it seemed, the Ministry was telling the truth.

Her frustrated reflections were interrupted by a burning sensation in her left pocket. With a start she remembered the Sickle that was lying there and brought it out. _Emergency - get out now_ was all it said. She instantly pulled on the cloak and took one last look around the room. On an impulse, she grabbed a large, golden clock, sitting on her left and, ignoring the way it scorched her hands, ran as fast as she could towards the exit. She had barely left the door to to the Department of Mysteries - luckily it hadn't started with the dizzying show it had put on for them in fifth year - when she spotted Harry and Ron sprinting ahead, being chased by two burly-looking men.

She suddenly realised that their cloaks must have disintegrated, and evidently their altered appearances weren't enough to stop them being identified as intruders. Considering their less-than-favourable chances, they were so far doing a good job at evading capture, and were managing to throw one or two particularly nasty-looking hexes at their pursuers. But had the true Invisibility Cloak, and therefore a massive advantage. She smirked as she shrunk the object she had picked up and put it into her beaded purse, before casting a powerful _Muffliato_ so she'd remain completely undetected and running into the chaos.

* * *

"Blimey, Hermione, you were amazing," said Ron weakly, as he pressed a bandage infused with some healing potion over a cut. "Me and Harry thought we were goners for sure."

"Harry _and I_ , Ron, and it's just as well I got your message then, isn't it?" she retorted, flushing slightly as she always did when Ron complimented her.

"Seriously, Hermione, it was like you came out of nowhere. One second we were surrounded by Ministry officials and the next they were all Stunned and you were apparating us back here," said Harry. "I don't know what we were thinking, attempting to break into the Ministry with such little planning. We were very lucky to get out uncaught."

"We were very lucky to have Hermione," Ron corrected, smiling lazily at her. "So, what happened? Did you manage to find anything before you came and saved us? Please tell me that wasn't all for nothing."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "did you get anything?" She sighed. "If you didn't, it's okay. We must be able to find another way, don't worry about it," he added gently. She shook her head.

"It's not that. I _did_ find something, it's just...not what we were looking for," she said, bringing the strange clock she had rashly stolen out of her beaded purse and enlarging it to normal size, so that it was about a foot wide in diameter. There was a moment's silence while the two boys stared at it.

"That's not a Time-Turner," said Ron finally.

"No, it's not…" Something occurred to her and she turned back to him with a scowl. "How would you know, anyway? You've never seen one."

"Yeah, well, it would be pretty bloody difficult to put _that_ round your neck, wouldn't it, Hermione?" Ron pointed out, making her feel very foolish.

"Sorry," she muttered. Harry walked briskly towards the golden timepiece, desperate to do something and diffuse the tension in the atmosphere.

"Hermione," he said, "do you think you could decipher these runes?" He gestured towards the symbols inscribed on the surface of the object. "What happened to the Time-Turners anyway? You never said."

"They were stuck in an endless self-destructing loop...it was way too optimistic to think they'd be useful anyway," she said as she inspected the markings. "As far as I know, the longest period of time a Time-Turner can take you back to is five hours, and we definitely need to go further than that."

"So...that break-in really was for nothing?" said Ron. Hermione narrowed her eyes. She really was beginning to get thoroughly annoyed.

"No, Ronald, because we managed to find this," she said shortly.

"And what is _that_ , exactly? You still haven't told us what we risked our lives getting."

"Ron," Harry warned, "you seriously need to stop yelling so we can concentrate. This is important! Whatever this clock is, it could help us change the course of history!" Ron opened his mouth to angrily respond, but Harry interrupted him. "And take off the bloody locket." Hermione immediately felt guilty. Ron's moodiness wasn't his fault, it was Tom Riddle's.

* * *

Hermione stayed up all night trying to decipher the runes on the clock. By dawn she had a fairly good idea of what it was, and she now knew that she was incredibly lucky she had impulsively grabbed it when she did. This could be the answer to all their problems.

"Ron! Harry!" she yelled, and they groaned sleepily with this new assault on their ears. "Come quick! I have a plan."

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron slurred as he slumped out of bed, his hair all sticking up on one side. Harry followed suit. Even in his less-than-awake state, his eyes narrowed as he saw the very full flask of Dreamless Sleep potion on the table.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" he accused.

"No," she answered impatiently, brushing stray strands of hair out of her eyes, "but it doesn't matter. I've figured out what this clock is." She paused.

"Well?" said Harry, still looking at her in suspicious concern.

"It's a Time-Turner - of sorts."

"What's that supposed to mean?" saidRon.

"Time-Turners work by providing a capsule, of sorts, for the Hour Reversal spell," Hermione explained. "However, if they were just left like that the spell would wear off quite quickly. The Time-Turners need to be supplied with a constant source of magic, so the energy is continuously being renewed."

"So...like when you plug things in to charge?" asked Harry, his dark brow furrowed as he tried to keep up with her explanation.

"Exactly, Harry. So this clock thing here...it is the source. It is a Master Time-Turner of sorts. It's practically buzzing with some of the strongest magic possible. It's full of a never-ending Hour-Reversal spell, which influences everything that is exposed to it for extended periods of time. It was never meant to be used for time-travel, but I'm sure that with the right precautions we could harness its power." She stared at the beautiful, golden object with its intricate carvings. After spending the night working over it, she was dying to use it, and to feel its magic flowing through her.

"Hermione," said Ron suddenly, "put that thing away." Her face fell.

"What? Why?"

Harry and Ron shared a grim glance, before Harry summoned the clock, shrank it, and put it into his moleskin pouch.

"What in Merlin's name did you do that for?" she growled, and she was surprised at how angry she was.

"Hermione," said Harry firmly, "you're tired, and you should sleep." He grabbed her shoulders and dragged her towards her bunk, while Ron picked the Dreamless Sleep potion off the table. Her eyes widened and she began to struggle.

"No, I don't want to sleep! We're so close to doing it! Why are you doing this? I've been working on this all night…"

"Precisely," said Harry, and his voice softened. "Look, Hermione, we won't force you to drink that potion if you don't want to. You've been up the whole night, working on that thing, and now you've just told us that you've been absorbing some weird kind of time energy that whole time! We don't know that much about it, and it's dangerous for you to expose yourself to it for so long, you said so yourself. Please - just rest a while. We'll talk about it again straight after, I promise."

Hermione was still strangely compelled to struggle against Harry and Ron, but she slowly became aware that what they were saying was entirely logical. She shouldn't spend so long with the Master Turner - look at the effect it was already having on her thinking! Even though there was still some pleasant golden haze protesting at her rational thoughts, she gave in. "Give me the potion," she said weakly, and Harry and Ron looked relieved as they handed it to her and she immediately succumbed to slumber.


End file.
